


I Am Folded, and Unfolded, and Unfolding

by jpluvbug



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Peter Parker, Bisexual Peter Parker, Depressed Peter Parker, Depression, Gen, Nightmares, No Beta, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Or does he, Peter Parker Joins the Avengers, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Whump, peter parker doesn't want to go back to space, we die like the avengers do in this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:46:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28867224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jpluvbug/pseuds/jpluvbug
Summary: There’s a moment before the end where you just know. It’s after the storm, when the dust begins to settle. Metaphorical dust, literal dust; well, in this case literal; it doesn’t matter when you know that this is the end of the line.After the events of Civil War, the Avengers work out their issues together, make amends, and create accords that everyone can agree to.Peter Parker learns what it really means to be a hero at age 15, and spends the next year-and-a-half of his vigilante life finding a family in a team that just might be as broken as he is.Then Thanos comes and demolishes everything they built together. The Avengers are gone in seconds as the wind carries the dust away.But the thing is, Peter was never an avenger, was he.Well, what doesn't kill you gives you nightmares, sixteen bottles of Ibuprofen, and a broken heart.(read notes)
Relationships: Clint Barton & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Stephen Strange, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the rough timeline for this fic, based on when the movies take place:
> 
> \- Spring 2016: Civil War  
> \- Summer 2016: The Avengers get back together.  
> \- Fall 2016: Homecoming, the Avengers move to the compound upstate, Peter saves the plane and Tony offers him a spot on the team that he turns down. Tony and Peter start lab days and Peter starts getting to know the Avengers and even goes on missions with them.  
> \- Late Spring 2018: Thanos comes to Earth, the team is separated like they are in the movie. Thanos snaps and only dusts the official Avengers, and disappears to the other side of the universe.  
> \- Spring 2019: Peter is forced to stop being Spider-Man because of his declining physical and mental health.  
> \- Fall 2021: Stephen Strange recruits a 20-year-old Peter Parker, and others, to bring back the rest of the Avengers.
> 
> My tumblr url: jpluvbug

There’s a moment before the end where you just know. It’s after the storm, when the dust begins to settle. Metaphorical dust, literal dust; well, in this case literal; it doesn’t matter when you know that this is the end of the line.

No one on the team fights it. There’s breath caught in their throats and shame on their faces as the final stone clicks into place on Thanos’s gauntlet. Their only and last comfort before the inevitable comes is in the form of held hands, and gripping onto any part of the people they love they can get. 

“You” Thanos breathes out into the silence, “should have gone for the head.”

A twisted smirk breaks out on his pained face. 

“The Avengers will never stand in my way again.”

He raises his hand, there’s a blinding flash and a portal and suddenly, he’s gone.

Thor stares into the oblivion. No one speaks. 

None of them knew what the snap would bring, how it would eliminate them. Maybe it would be painful, they didn’t know. Scattered throughout the field, they hold onto each other anyway, as if they can keep everyone there if they hold on hard enough. This is the end.

The first to go is Bucky. Legs, torso, head, that’s how it goes. The dust floats into the open air, no one dares to breathe.  
They all go one by one. Their last thoughts either of failure, or the fact that they’re all here together. 

Well, almost all of them.

______________________________

Galaxies away, on the red planet Titan, the failure carries over.  
Beaten and bruised and tired, Tony's barely keeping it together. He doesn’t want to scare the kid more than he already is.

No one speaks here either. It’s as if the whole universe is waiting.  
Waiting for what?

For the dust that would linger on the red sand like an omen. 

The snap takes Tony. His eyes meet Peters as he goes. 

A steady chant of “no, no, no” leaves Peters lips as he tries to get to him before there’s nothing left.  
Peter manages to grasp Tony’s outstretched hand before it disintegrates from the pressure. And just like that, he’s gone.

It’s as if Tony had never been there in the first place. Peter finds himself wondering if he might’ve made it all up. But his hand is still reaching towards the now empty space, dark flakes stand out against the burning red of Titan, and he knows what he felt was real.

The rest of them board the damaged Benatar. It’s quiet still. No one even dares to move. 

Peter doesn’t think he’d even seen the Guardians this shaken throughout the entire battle with Thanos.  
The silence coming from where Strange is sat is expected, but the torn expression on his face is not. 

It doesn’t hit Peter right away. It’s almost like he’s dreaming, he’ll wake up in his bed at home soon enough, safe and warm, and repeat another day.

But as the thought weasels it’s way into his brain, he realizes. Tony’s gone, disappeared without a trace. He’s on a ship in the middle of nowhere in space with five other people he knows absolutely nothing about.

He feels small. Alone. There’s bigger things out there he couldn’t have ever dreamed of, and he feels like he’s been crushed beneath them.

Conversation starts the next day, after they all wake up from a fitful sleep. It starts as simple things, like what to eat, where things are on the ship, a change of clothes.  
But in a desperate attempt to feel normal for a while, small talk turns to story’s and strained jokes.

Peter doesn’t know how to feel normal in the middle of all this. But he’s lived by the phrase “fake it till you make it” for years, why stop now.

It’s about twenty days later and hopes of finding a way out of deep space are futile. Oxygen is low, so are any forms of nutrients.

Three weeks ago Peter might have cared about getting out of this. He would’ve probably been afraid. Not that he wasn’t afraid now. A different kind of afraid. Now he was afraid of the unknown, what comes after death. He’s expecting death.

They’d all said their goodbyes to each other for the night. No one said it might be their last out loud.

Peter thought about Nebula. If she’d get lonely, before she’d eventually flicker out like the rest of them.  
He thought about a miracle of going home to nothing changed when in reality he had no idea who was still left to go home to, or if there was any home at all.  
He thought about how Tony’s hand felt before it slipped away.

He thought about a lot of things. 

The darkness was almost welcoming.

Peter was startled awake by a bright light flooding the Benatar. At first, he thought that maybe this was it, this was the way things would end, of all the possibilities, this was how they would go. 

But the next thing he knows is his feet hitting the solid ground of earth, and he wonders again if this is still part of the dream. The afterlife. 

He hears her. May calls his name, her footsteps growing faster and louder until she collides with him.

And he feels her arms around him and in his hair and it’s almost like he can finally breathe again.

She’s holding him and whispering reassurances and crying, and he’s crying too. He hadn’t cried yet.

Warm tears spill over as everything hits him all at once.  
Tony’s gone, he’s not dreaming, May’s here holding him, he’s home, he’s safe after all this time.

He breaks, let’s May hold him together as they sink to the ground, as he sobs his heart out to her. 

He cracks his eyes open and spots Pepper’s sorrowful expression over May’s shoulder. He reaches a hand out to her, a mirror of his last moment with Tony on Titan, and she slowly walks over and takes it, and sinks down to the ground with them. 

May must have realized that Tony never came out of the ship beind him, because she opens an arm to Pepper and allows her to fall into the embrace.  
They all cling to each other like the others will slip away.

His grip on Peppers hand never faulters, he won’t make the same mistake again.

______________________________

Somewhere else, far away, a soul blinks into existence. It’s followed by a second, a third, fourth, on and on until nine bright little lights take their place among a never ending orange sky.

Nine souls seep into figures, materializing until they reach their true form.

Their feet ripple a mirror-like glaze of water that stretches on forever. 

“What the hell is this?”


	2. Regular Days are Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years after the snap, a tired Peter Parker receives a warning. And what follows is someone he thought he’d never have to see again.
> 
> Content Warning for vomiting and hints to suicidal thoughts!
> 
> (read end notes)

_The wind rushes through the red sand like fire. Maybe it is fire, he’s burning all over._

_People call out in pain, panic.  
Then, silence._

_The silence after the storm. It’s already too late._

_It comes in flashes. A hand reaching towards his, gone. The endless void of space. An empty compound. A flash of orange followed by more endless space. Real fire turns to sand and back again. The feeling of falling. A sunset that stretches on forever. Faces. So many faces, he wishes they would leave him alone after all this time._

_“Peter”_

_“Kid”_

_God, stop._

_The scenes come faster and faster, he can’t keep up._

_“We’re running out of time.”_

_“Something is coming.”_

_“Peter.”_

_“Peter!”_

Peter shot up in his bed, struggling to breathe, eyes wide and searching because the voices that called out to him felt so _real._  
He was getting really tired of not being able to breathe.

He felt his stomach churn and swallowed heavily. It had been a while since he puked his guts up after just trying to sleep. He also thought the nightmares had started to ease up lately, which apparently was so they could come back full force and destroy him.

He struggled against the sheets his legs were tangled in, god he hated those sheets, and finally kicked them off with a frustrated grunt. 

Practically throwing himself off his bed onto shaking legs, he stumbled to the bathroom down the hall. It’s late enough in the early morning that dim daylight illuminates the small apartment, allowing him to complete his path to the bathroom without walking into something.

Finally, he drops next to the toilet just in time for his stomach to try and turn inside out, and heaves into the bowl. Nothing much comes out of course, he hadn’t really eaten since around noon the day before.

When his body decides it’s suffered enough for the morning, he collapses against the wall of the tub, panting.  
He seems to have finally come to his senses because now he can feel his sweat soaked t-shirt clinging to his torso. He reaches both hands up to his hair and gives it a rough run-through.

The words haunt him.

_“Something is coming.”_

So this is how today’s gonna be.

_____________________

Peter Parker never thought his life would end up like this. 

There had been times as a child when he would dream of completing valiant acts alongside the avengers. 

But there was something about getting bitten by a radioactive spider, being deathly sick for a few days, and waking up one of those days with the ability to complete said valiant acts that really....

….changed a person.

Loosing family three times over also changes you.

And it’s never in an easy way. It’s never peaceful. You never get to say ‘I love you’ before they go. 

He’s not used to it. Maybe he should be.

On bad days he wishes he wasn’t the ‘last man standing’.  
On _really_ bad days he thinks he might do something about it.

May would be devastated. He can’t do that to her after everything else, he’s taken enough from her. 

He has Pepper too, and Happy. Clint made it out without so much as a scratch thanks to his retirement.

They had figured out fairly early on that it was the intention behind the snap that made them lucky.

‘Avengers’ only. Peter was never an Avenger, a spur of the moment “mature” desicion he made almost two years earlier would ironically save his life. He wishes he’d been a little more naive.

Anyway here he is on a Friday afternoon a little over three years later, crisp fall air brushing his cheeks as he walks back from a particularly long lecture he hadn’t been paying enough attention to. 

To be fair, he had a rough morning. And the dream he had seemed to be stuck in his head tighter than web fluid.

It continued to nag at him as he checked his phone for his schedule.  
It was basically the same every day, he’d fallen into an easy routine when he started college last year. 

Easy meaning he could loose himself in it. Dissociation had become a part of his weekly routine. At the beginning they were all lucky if dissociation was all that was on the menu that day.

Good days, bad days. After about a year-and-a-half they started to blend together. At that point he had no choice but to accept what had happened. What’s done is done. So yeah, good days and bad days turned into regular days.

Regular days consisted of waking up too early, classes, work, home, attempting to sleep, and repeat. Not good, and not eventful enough to be bad.

He heads to work. Work for him these days is a four hour shift at a small local pop culture and record store a walks distance away from campus. 

It’s usually quiet there, a few people flipping through records and browsing at a time. It’s not often you get a noisy or disrespectful customer. Peter supposes that’s why he likes it. He liked quiet a lot more after the snap. 

The bell on the door chimes as Peter pushes it open and he greets his manager, Nick, with a nod. 

Nick drops his feet to the floor from where they were propped on the register as he speaks.

“One thirty on the dot, you’re never late, are you Parker?”

“You know it. It’s not like I have anything else to do.”

“You can’t tell me the girls aren’t dying to keep you after class. You look like you haven’t slept in days, people dig that look now.”

“If they did, maybe I wouldn’t be here, Nick.”, Peter cracks a small ironic smile. If only Nick knew.

Nick graduated from the same college about a year ago at twenty-two years old, around the time Peter started working at the shop. 

MJ and Peter had decided to try an open relationship when they both got accepted to different colleges and Nick happened to be attractive and smart. They weren’t anything more than friends by any means but kissing in the back rooms supply closet a few times didn’t hurt anyone. 

Nick huffed out a laugh. “Oh, Maya can’t make her shift today, something about a doctors appointment, do you mind staying like two more hours to help me with the boxes in the back?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

Nick leans his forearms on the counter, “Hey, if you’re not doing anything after, and I know you’re not, there’s this party at Liams place. I told you I was gonna get you to go out more. You feel up to it?”

Peter considers, but he really shouldn’t. He already feels like crap and he has to call May tonight.

“Nah, man. Had a rough morning, wanna try to get to sleep earlier. Morning classes tomorrow, y’know?”

“Yikes, alright. Next time though, no exceptions”, Nick states, pointing a finger at Peter's chest.

Peter nods once and starts his shift.

______________________

Peter arrives back at his apartment at eight o’clock that night. Two hours later than he planned at the start of the day, subway time included. 

He climbs the three flights of stairs and manages to not drop his keys while opening the front door. Which is a great accomplishment considering this is on the worse side of a regular day.

He’s exhausted, and is already planning to make a beeline for the bed. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to fall asleep, the recent nightmare and mornings events still lingering in his mind. It was odd considering nightmares were the new normal and he had begun to dismiss them. 

Walking to the window across from the bedroom door, he tosses his keys on the bed and begins unpacking his bag.

He freezes suddenly when he feels a tingle at the back of his neck.

His sixth sense hadn’t made an appearance in the last eight months.

“Parker”, a familiar, serious voice speaks from the doorway behind him.

Peter turns his head slowly, eyes widening when he realized exactly who had decided to let themself into his apartment with a sparkly orange void.

“Shit.”

He should’ve taken Nick up on that offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t have an upload schedule, I’m going to try to just let the writing flow so I don’t loose steam later on and just bust out some chapters the next few days.  
> Not sure if I’m cut out for the fic-writer life but bear with me.


	3. Something is Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Stephen Strange destroys Peters’ routine by waltzing into an already bad day, Peter realizes they might have a chance to fix everything.  
> Meanwhile, in the soul realm, the team is having realizations of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a little while more than expected because I lost motivation for a few days but here it is!  
> Next chapter should be out in a day or two. :)  
> Sorry they’re a little short, but it’s better because I’ll update more often. Plus there will be so so many chapters.  
> Bear with me

“Parker”, Stephen Strange spoke firmly.

Peter turned to face him, clearly on edge. Strange had expected him to soften when he realized it was just him but he seemed to tense up even more instead.

“Shit” Peter breathed out.

This made Strange falter a bit. He hadn’t expected exactly what he was seeing now, although it had been about a year or so since they last saw each other face to face. And somehow Peter looked worse off. 

Still fumbling for something to say, he took in the scene before him.

Peter had gotten taller. Not by much, but enough to notice the change when he straightened to attention.

His hair was slightly longer. Untamed curls that used to be slicked with gel hung in front of his eye and swirled down the nape of his neck. 

Bruising colors framed his brown eyes that used to look so bright, he clearly hadn’t slept well in a very long time.

And the muscles in his jaw that would tense whenever he was frustrated barely relaxed now.

Peter broke the awkward silence for him. 

“So, what, you just decided to pop into my room with your magic sparkly thing?”, He waved his hands around. “You know I have a door right?”

“Uh, yes, right”, Strange stuttered. “I’m, um, I’m sorry about that. It’s...”  
He trailed off, not sure how to continue.

“What are you doing in my apartment, Strange.”  
It barely sounded like a question, and Peter still hadn’t relaxed one bit.  
“If it were for a casual reason you probably would have warned me beforehand. If you need...Spider-Man, you know I- I haven’t done that for a while.”

“Yes, I’m aware. You’re right, I would have warned you beforehand, which is why it’s crucial that you listen to what I have to tell you.”, 

Strange finally gathered his thoughts enough to do what he came here to do.

“I know how to bring them back.”

——

Somewhere else, beyond what any of them ever knew, an orange sky traveled endlessly, and nine souls wandered through the glass-like ground.

“I just lost the connection, it was here and then it was gone. Was it even real? It couldn’t have been a dream, we haven’t even slept ” Wanda’s frustrated ramble was loud against the silence as she sat down hard on a nearby rock.

It had been an emotionally charged few minutes when Wanda attempted to use her powers and was thrust into a blurred vision of somewhere on earth.

_“What's happening to her?” Steve’s panicked voice called as Wanda clutched her head and gasped in pain._

_“I don’t know!” Rhodey yelled from where he kneeled next to her, hands hovering._

_Everyone had stood and gathered around the source of the sudden commotion, eyes wide and confused._

_For Wanda, an image cleared slightly in her mind, outlined in fiery red._

_Peter. It looked like Peter, but slightly different, older maybe. He looked exhausted even as he slept._

_“Peter, it’s Peter, I see him!” Wanda gritted out between clenched teeth._

_A series of “what’s” and “Peter?” traveled around the circle of hero’s. A quiet “who?”coming from an even more confused Bruce, and an equally confused look from Thor._

_“Maybe I can-”, She groaned, “- reach out to him.”_

_They all nodded and leaned in closer as Wanda pushed through her blurry mind barrier. The image of Peter got clearer._

_“Peter”, She called out._

_“Kid”, Tony murmured beside her._

_In Wanda's mind, Peter’s face tensed as his head turned-_

_Then she was pushed out without warning. The force knocked her physical body back onto her forearms, the world around her finally coming back into focus._

_Not a trace of what she saw before was left except the pounding in her head._

_The silence around them all was deafening._

“What matters is that we got through to Peter.”, Rhodey stated in an attempt to calm the atmosphere. 

“How do we even know that, what if it’s a hallucination because there’s nothing else around this place and we’ve been here too long.”, Sam argued.

“How long do you think it’s been.” Wanda asked quietly.

“Not sure.”, Sam answered. “Feels like hours.”

“Feels like days, to me.” Rhodey said grimly, crossing his arms.

“Well considering none of us lads have grown any beards, I think it’s safe to say there’s no time passing at all. I mean look at this place, it’s not on earth, we would’ve found something by now.”, Tony spoke up now, trying to lighten the mood slightly, he’d been quiet ever since Wanda mentioned that she saw the kid.

They had all spent god-knows-how-long of their time here walking in every direction until they gave up. There was no definite way out.

Steve and Nat sat five feet apart, the same concentration on both of their faces, lost in thought.

Bruce and Bucky were the most quiet of all of them, observing and only making comments when addressed or necessary. Bruce fiddled with his sleeve and Bucky’s eyes drifted around to the others.

Thor was more worrying. He hadn’t said much since they arrived wherever they were, only pleasantries with no more than three words. He looked impossibly tired, he believed he failed them all, and wouldn’t listen to anyone that said otherwise.

It was an odd place. They knew it had been a while since they appeared here, but none of them ever got the urge to eat or sleep or really anything else. It was like they were distant, minds floating suspended outside their bodies. Sensations of touch were dulled to almost nothing, yet they could function normally.

Wherever they were, it sure as hell was a long ways away from home.

Sam spoke up again.

“What do we do now?” 

He was met with more silence.

Nat finally stood, purpose burning in her eyes, and everyone turned to look at her.

“We keep trying.”

——

Peter looked about ready to slap Stephen in the face.

“So, what you're telling me is after three years, _three years_ , you finally decide you wanna go through with this elaborate plan to get the stones from god knows where and bring everyone back.”

“Yes”, Strange sounded pained as he pressed lips into a thin line, before inhaling.  
“We need them, to protect the earth against something bigger.”

Peter huffed out a frustrated breath and stood up abruptly from where he had been sitting on the edge of his bed. He walked over to the window, keeping his back to Strange as if he couldn’t bear to look at him any longer.

Strange sighed, knowing Peter wouldn't speak next.

“Peter, something is coming.”

Peters' back went rigid.

_“Something is coming.”_

The nightmare. The one dream this morning bed any of this shit happened. Like an omen. 

A vision.

There were a few minutes of silence while Peter thought about everything Strange had put down, the voices from the dream, what was at stake,

And how he knew he couldn’t go on living like this when something could be done about it.

He swallowed, turned, and looked Stephen Strange right in the eye.

“What do we have to do.”


End file.
